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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29022675">Cigar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/baptistes/pseuds/baptistes'>baptistes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>JUDGE EYES: 死神の遺言 | Judgment, 龍が如く | Ryuu ga Gotoku | Yakuza (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Dirty Talk, Cock Warming, Cock Worship, Coming In Pants, M/M, Sugiura is a repressed whore, Yagami is kind of a whore, but it's super brushed over and has nothing to do with the ship, but like on purpose, implied drugging</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 14:08:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,580</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29022675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/baptistes/pseuds/baptistes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yagami, among other things, also has the inkling suspicion that they weren’t actually poppers. </p>
<p>This is the only logical conclusion he can come up with as to why he’s currently sitting naked as the day he was born behind some bar on Tenkaichi Street.</p>
<p>(alternatively: yagami's clothes get stolen, and sugiura is the best person to call. best doesn't always mean good, though.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sugiura Fumiya/Yagami Takayuki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cigar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>look im going to be honest, this came from a shitty piece of dialogue that popped into my head at three in the morning and somehow it has evolved into a monstrosity. I can't believe I wrote a 7.6k fic for a rarepair in a dead ass fandom. so typical for me.</p>
<p>so theres art for this now! nishikimbos on both <a href="https://twitter.com/nishikimbos">twitter</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishikimbos/pseuds/nishikimbos">ao3</a> was nice enough to draw a little cartoon based on one of the scenes! you can find this <a href="https://twitter.com/nishikimbos/status/1355295327725608963">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yagami truly, honestly can’t remember how he got in this situation. He recalls the bar, the drinking, the tall dude who’d been making bedroom eyes at him. Not much else, though. He has the inkling suspicion that some of the blame for his current predicament can be placed on the poppers the guy had insisted he snort, though they were only shoved in between two buildings making out. As nasty as Yagami is in other respects, he’s not super into exhibitionism, so the drugs were pretty much unnecessary, save for the quick-lasting high. Yagami is usually smarter than to accept drugs from strangers, but then, he <em> was </em> really drunk and the guy <em> was </em> really hot, and besides-- poppers are <em> fun</em>. Usually. They make him feel like he’s living some fantastic gay party life in the eighties. Yagami, among other things, also has the inkling suspicion that they weren’t actually poppers. </p>
<p>This is the only logical conclusion he can come up with as to why he’s currently sitting naked as the day he was born behind some bar on Tenkaichi Street. He’s still got his shoes, and his assailant (somehow, miraculously) left his phone with him, which begs the question <em> why</em>. His wallet is there too, though cleaned of what little cash was inside, which also begs the question <em> why</em>. Why take his money but leave his phone? Why take his <em> clothes </em>? Was there something particularly fashionable these days about department store acid wash jeans and a plain white tee? Seriously, who does that? Yagami hates Kamurocho and the oddballs it seems to collect. </p>
<p>The ground is cold and wet under his naked ass, and as Yagami tries to find a dry spot to sit on (which is nearly fucking impossible in this city, for some reason-- if it’s not spilled beer it’s piss or puke or who knows <em> what</em>. Yagami seriously loathes this God forsaken place.) he opens up his phone to call Kaito. Who doesn’t answer. Of course he doesn’t. Because he’s a big dumb brute that’s only good for punching people and getting Yagami off. (Alright, he’s good at other things too, like always bringing Yagami his favourite soup when he’s sick and taking on really dumb cases when Yagami is having a particularly shitty day, but the aforementioned are clearly the most <em> significant </em> qualities of Kaito. Or at least the ones Yagami most associates with him). Yagami calls him twice, and both times the only thing he can hear is the sound of his stupid voicemail. <em> Hey there, you’ve reached Kaito. Sorry I missed your call-- I’m probably out bustin’ skulls right now, but I’ll get back to you later. </em> See? Big dumb brute who’s only good for punching people. </p>
<p>Scowling, Yagami scrolls through his contact list in an attempt to find someone reasonable to call. </p>
<p>The first person that comes up is Higashi, and-- no, just. No way. Yagami is still convinced that Higashi hates him (because he thinks that Yagami is stealing Kaito from him, or something, even though Kaito, much like Yagami, is a non-monogamist slut who will pretty much fuck anything with two legs-- if he just <em> asked</em>, Yagami is certain Kaito wouldn’t say no, but that’s not really important right now. Or his business, for that matter) and even if he asked really nicely and Higashi <em> didn’t </em> hate him, he still wouldn’t be bothered to help Yagami. He has better things to do, and Yagami respects that. He also wouldn’t want Higashi to see his dick in this context. Higashi would get too flustered. </p>
<p>Hoshino comes up next. Yagami genuinely considers it for a moment before turning up his nose in distaste. He’s not going to scar Hoshino like this-- poor kid has probably never seen a real dick other than his own in his <em> life </em> (or a pussy either, for that matter) and Yagami is not going to make his first time being him rescuing his sometimes-boss/senpai/friend(???) from a serial clothes-napper. That’s just not fair. </p>
<p>The next, again, Yagami considers, though for less time than he had Hoshino. It’s just bad news, he thinks, if he asked Mafuyu to help him with this. Not that she’d say no-- in fact, if he asked her to be here in ten she’d come in five. He just doesn’t really <em> want </em> her here. Mafuyu has a habit of insisting to people that he’s her boyfriend (seriously. <em> All </em> the time-- wouldn’t you think she’d at least have that conversation with <em> him </em> first?), even though they’ve only ever hooked up once (like, two years ago) and Yagami would describe it as distasteful at best. Not that Mafuyu is particularly boring in bed or anything, he just isn’t really keen on her like that. They’re good friends, but it doesn’t really go beyond that for him. And besides, he doesn’t <em> do </em> girlfriends. Or boyfriends. Or partners, even. He’s a casual hookup kind of guy and she needs someone who will settle down with her. Like, monogamy and stable jobs and sex with full eye contact. Yagami shudders involuntarily. </p>
<p>He scrolls down one more, sees Saori, and genuinely considers joining a nudist colony instead of even thinking of subjecting himself to that kind of grief. Again, just-- no. He’d honestly rather die. And anyway, he’d need millions of yen worth of sweets to even begin to coax her into helping and she probably wouldn’t even agree to it then. Not that he wants her help. She’d never want to see Yagami naked, and he’d never want it either. </p>
<p>It leaves one option for him. </p>
<p>Arguably, Sugiura is his best choice, but best doesn’t mean <em> good</em>. Yagami thinks about it for a moment, the way their interaction would go. Sugiura would help him, of course, because he’s just barely twenty-five and isn’t as good as he thinks he is at hiding how high his sex drive really is-- you’d think, with degenerate friends like Yagami and Kaito that you’d be more open about it, but he supposes Sugiura’s never really been super open about anything-- but it certainly wouldn’t go down as smoothly as Yagami would find ideal. Because on top of being a coltish little twink that somehow manages to drive Yagami up the wall constantly by doing absolutely fuck all, he’s also a little shit disturber, and Yagami is sure that he would find this predicament more than amusing. </p>
<p>He can imagine it vividly: the pursing of his lips as he tries to bite back a smile, the little snort that would escape, then the breaking out into hysterics and <em> oh my god, dude what the fuck</em>. Yagami has flashbacks to when he had to impersonate Toshiro (and, he thinks pathetically, had to leave the poor bastard in a state hardly better than Yagami’s current one). </p>
<p>Yagami pinches the bridge of his nose, refusing to look at the screen as he calls Sugiura on speaker. He’s going to regret this, he just knows it. </p>
<p>Sugiura picks up after a few rings. Whether it’s because his phone wasn't on him or because he was waiting until deemed appropriate to pick up, Yagami doesn’t know, but he’d bet on the latter. That phone never leaves the kid’s hand, he swears. “Yo,” Sugiura says, the word slightly muffled. He’s probably sucking on a lollipop-- he’s got an oral fixation. “Yagami. ‘Sup?”</p>
<p>Yagami ponders for a moment the best way to do this. “I know your wardrobe consists mostly of hoodies and black cargo pants--”</p>
<p>“No <em> hello</em>? Also, excuse you, jackass, I own two flannels.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Yagami says, “which you layer over your hoodies and cargo pants.”</p>
<p>“Why are we talking about clothes? Have you finally decided to stop dressing like a wannabe greaser?”</p>
<p>Yagami would scoff if he were in any other situation. He happens to like the way he dresses, thanks very much, and the still fresh wound of his favourite leather jacket being stolen is stinging like a bitch. “Look, Sugiura. If you dug in the depths of your closet, do you think you could find a pair of sweats and a t-shirt I could borrow?”</p>
<p>A pause. A suckling noise comes from the other end-- he <em> is </em> sucking on a lollipop. Yagami thinks about his little pink tongue swiping out to taste it-- it’s probably strawberry flavoured. “Yeah, guess so. Why? Suddenly want to dress cool? Someone steal your clothes?” He’s taking the piss, obviously. Realistically, there’s no way he could know that and even if he could Yagami is sure he couldn’t make himself sound so nonchalant about it. It still makes his ears burn. </p>
<p>Yagami doesn’t say anything. </p>
<p>“Yagami,” Suguira says. Of course he knows. What <em> doesn’t </em> this kid know? “Are you <em> naked </em> right now?” </p>
<p>“Wouldn’t you like to know.”</p>
<p>“Oh my god,” Sugiura laughs. The sound is slightly muffled, like he’s covering his mouth. “Oh my <em> god</em>, Yagami. What the fuck. Where <em> are </em> you?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know-- some back lot off Tenkaichi.” Yagami’s not really the type to get flustered about this, but something about Sugiura laughing at him like this right now makes his face want to melt clean off his skull. Not before slapping him first, that is. Yagami won’t let Sugiura have the satisfaction of making fun of him and living to tell the tale. </p>
<p>“<em>Why</em>?”</p>
<p>“God-- fucking, <em> Christ</em>, Sugiura. I don’t know. I think I got drugged. Can you please bring me clothes so I don’t get charged with public indecency?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah,” Sugiura says, heaving a big sigh, like laughing so much really winded him. Yagami knew he’d regret this. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t go anywhere.”</p>
<p>“You little--”</p>
<p>Dial tone. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sugiura shows up less than ten minutes later, which isn’t surprising considering the fact that despite no longer being a thief, he still knows and takes advantage of being able to parkour his way through the city to get places faster. He’s got to be, like, an ex-gymnast or something, because even Yagami, who’s as limber as they come for thirty-five has trouble keeping up with him. The first time Yagami suggested they actually walk somewhere for once he’d truly, honestly looked like he was going to cry. He’s got the bag with the clothes tucked under his arm, and when he squeezes through the alley, his hand flies his mouth.</p>
<p>“Don’t say a fucking word, Sugiura.”</p>
<p>“I’m <em> not</em>,” he says, but he’s giggling a little. “I’d never laugh at your pain.” Even though he is currently attempting to stifle his laughter at Yagami’s pain.</p>
<p>“Right, sure, can I just have the clothes, please? My ass is cold.” He stands, makes grabby hands for the bag tucked under Sugiura’s arm. He doesn’t bother covering his dick, because it’s not the first time Sugiura has seen it, he doesn’t think. Yagami is a bit of a nudist anyways-- most of his close friends (a lot of whom he’s had sex with, so they’d have seen him like this anyways) have seen him naked at least once. Yagami hasn’t had sex with Sugiura, but even if he hasn’t seen Yagami naked he doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal.</p>
<p>Sugiura blinks, eyes trailing Yagami head to toe. He swallows thickly, tearing his eyes away from his sinewy body after a moment and handing over the bag without looking. His face is red. Huh. Maybe it <em> is </em> a big deal, then. Whatever, it’s not like it really matters since he’s only going to be naked around him for another minute or so. </p>
<p>Yagami takes the bag, and pulls out the contents: grey sweats and a t-shirt for an indie band Yagami has never heard of. He hands the bag back and toes off his sneakers, though he pulls the shirt over his head first. It’s a little tight in the sleeves and falls a little short over his stomach due to him being both taller and more muscular than Sugiura, but he isn’t complaining. </p>
<p>“Shirt and no pants with your dick out like Winnie the Pooh,” Sugiura says, deadpans, really, less awkward now. It’s not really a joke, more of an observation; something to fill the dead air around them. Yagami looks down at himself, where his dick is out and his knobby knees are on full display. </p>
<p>Yeah, he realizes it’s probably weird he put the shirt on first. </p>
<p>“It’s my new look,” he says.</p>
<p>“Please, dear God, no.” </p>
<p>“What, you <em> don’t </em> want me to have my dick out all the time?”</p>
<p>Suguira doesn’t respond immediately, and when he does it doesn’t answer the question. Answers the question with another question, actually. Curious. </p>
<p>“You’re going to free-ball in my sweats?” Sugiura says this while Yagami is slipping a foot into said sweats. They’re some ratty ones he’s had since high school that have worn slightly thin and pilled in the thighs-- would have worn out more if he weren’t so skinny. </p>
<p>Yagami pauses, wobbling only minutely. “Yeah,” he says. “Was planning on it. You’re the one who didn’t bring me any underwear.” He hadn’t asked for underwear, but Yagami had thought Sugiura might have had the hindsight to pop into Don Quijote and buy him a pair of briefs. </p>
<p>“I thought you’d be wearing some, at least,” he murmurs. “I didn’t think you’d have your dick out.”</p>
<p>“Well, it’s not like I really had a choice, did I? Some perv took ‘em.”</p>
<p><em> Lucky perv</em>, crosses Sugiura’s mind. </p>
<p>Now fully dressed, or, at least in more clothes than he’d been wearing previously, Yagami slips his sneakers back on and outstretches his arms to present himself. The tight t-shirt, the sweats that fall just above his ankles. He looks like one of those kids who are freakishly tall so no clothes ever fit them. Not that he <em> isn’t </em> freakishly tall. “Tada,” he says. </p>
<p>“Hot.” Suguira leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest again. He looks Yagami up and down once more. “Wanna tell me how you ended up naked in this backlot?”</p>
<p>Yagami sighs, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s a long story.”</p>
<p>“I have time, and besides-- I like hearing about your struggles.” Not because he’s nice or anything, it’s because he feeds off Yagami’s sorrows. </p>
<p>“I dunno, really, I told you-- I got drugged, I think. Willingly.”</p>
<p>“<em>Willingly</em>?”</p>
<p>“Well not <em> willingly</em>,” he stresses. Another sigh. “There was a really hot dude eyeing me up at the bar, and I was drunk, and when I’m drunk I’m even more of a whore than I am usually, so we’re out behind the joint making out, right, and it’s super good, until the dude pulls out this bottle of poppers, which I honestly hadn’t done since I was like. Twenty. But he’s like insisting I do them and I’m drunk so my inhibitions are somehow low enough for me to accept drugs from strangers, and the next thing I know my clothes are gone and I’m waking up in a backlot. I have a very strong suspicion that they weren’t really poppers.”</p>
<p>Sugiura blinks at him. “Wow,” he says. “You’re stupid.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know that.” A moment passes. “What time is it?”</p>
<p>“Like, nine in the morning.”</p>
<p>Huh. Figures. “Wanna get like, a breakfast sandwich or something?”</p>
<p>“No,” Suguira says, maybe a little too quickly. “I should, uh. I should probably get going. And you should too. Shouldn’t walk around the city like that.”</p>
<p>“They’re <em> your </em> clothes.” Yagami feels a little dejected at being turned down, but ultimately, he probably <em> shouldn’t </em> walk around the city free-balling in a pair of too-small grey sweatpants. That’s basically indecency too. “Alright, fine. Thanks for coming.”</p>
<p>“Sure, dude.”</p>
<p>He leaves. Yagami goes home. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Naturally, or at least if you’re of the same nature of one Yagami Takayuki, he forgets about the whole thing. He’d considered opening up a case, catching the serial clothes-napper, but it’s not really serial if he’s the only one it’s happened to, and besides, he wouldn’t be getting paid for it. The satisfaction wouldn’t be enough for him. Anyway, he’s already replaced his leather jacket with a cool one he’d found at a thrift store for seven hundred yen. Yagami is easy like that. He doesn’t really care anymore, even if it had hurt his pride. If anything, it’s taught him that sometimes people are bad, and chances are if someone is insisting you do a drug, you’re going to end up in a shitty situation. That’s just common sense, though, no one ever said Yagami had common sense. He’s smart, sure, good at math, great lawyer-- fucking <em> stupid </em> when he gets all slutty. It’s like all logic and reasoning goes out the window with the promise of a mouth on him. </p>
<p>Kaito had laughed when he’d told him about it, because of course he did. He was sprawled in the dad chair in that really ugly shirt of his. The purple Hawaiian one that looks like a beach shop threw up on it. <em> You slut </em> he’d said, as if his dick had not been in Yagami a mere ten minutes prior. <em> Serves you right. </em> And Yagami had chimed back <em> serves </em> me <em> right? You’re the asshole who didn’t pick up the phone. I could have ended up being turned into human katsudon, or had my skin turned into a suit and </em> I <em> deserve it? You’re just a bad friend. I had to call Sugiura because of you. You know how much that twink likes to find excuses to make fun of me. </em> </p>
<p>Speaking of Sugiura, he’s been acting weird recently. And weirder than normal, Yagami means, since that kid is <em> always </em> weird. Different weird. Awkward weird. Every time he asks if he wants to grab a bite, he says he’s busy, that he’s got other stuff going on. Once he’d said he was hanging out with Hoshino, and then when Yagami had walked to the convenience store to pick up a bento and a new pack of smokes, he’d found Hoshino squinting at a cling wrapped onigiri like it was going to bite him-- kid spends too much time at the office. When Yagami had asked where Sugiura was, Hoshino had no clue what he was talking about. He hadn't, of course, mentioned this to Sugiura, because he knew he’d just lie about it, but it did sting a little to find Sugiura was avoiding him. God only knows why. </p>
<p>Probably something to do with the full frontal show he’d given him a few days back, but Yagami can’t really fathom <em> why </em> . It’s not like it was a particularly astounding discovery to find that Yagami is just as tan under his clothes as he is in the places that show, and it’s certainly not a new development for Sugiura to see his dick, since he’d walked into the office a few months back and caught Kaito on his knees for him-- no, actually, he wouldn’t have seen it then because he was on the couch with his back to the door. Whatever, it shouldn't <em> matter</em>. Guys see each other’s dicks. It’s just a thing that happens. </p>
<p>He’d called Sugiura because he’d thought he <em> wouldn’t </em> be weird about it. Maybe he’d have been better off calling Hoshino. Come to think of it he probably wouldn’t have bat an eye-- he’s got to be used to that shit now. </p>
<p>Yagami is bored today. He’s been moping around the office all day in various positions on the various pieces of furniture, and he’s listened to all of his records to their completion so now he’s sitting in silence. Pinball isn’t even amusing him. In his head, he’s doing something exciting, like walking to the store and being hounded by someone with frets of early marriage infidelity and someone looking for their stolen sneakers. Maybe someone needed him to find their cat again. Lord knows those things are always going missing. </p>
<p>As though on cue, the door opens, and Yagami’s head pops up at the promise of a new case, but when he drops his half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray and opens his mouth to say, <em> Good Afternoon, how can I help you? </em> he sees that it’s Sugiura. Speak of the devil, and all. </p>
<p>Yagami sinks back into his desk chair and picks up his cigarette again, deflated. Not that he’s particularly unhappy to see Sugiura or anything, in fact, he’s actually quite pleased that he’s been graced with his presence considering how blatantly he’s been ignored these past few days, he's just been itching to do something that isn’t waiting around in hopes of a new case. He’d really honestly take anything. Okay, maybe not <em> anything-- </em> that whole thing a while back has seriously filled his murder case quota for his whole life, he thinks. </p>
<p>“Hey,” Yagami says, taking a drag lazily. He looks Sugiura over. Fluffy hair, black hoodie, tight black jeans, printed vans high tops. He’s the poster boy for teenage delinquent, but, like, aesthetically. Also he’s not a teenager. Whatever. “Come in.”</p>
<p>“Hey,” he parrots, fidgeting. “You know, you really shouldn’t smoke in your office.” It lacks the normal bite it usually does. Sugiura is standing by the door awkwardly, which is odd. He usually gets in the armchair like he owns the damn thing as soon as he’s in the room, sitting sideways with his legs hooked over the arm like a child. </p>
<p>There’s something very off about Sugiura today. And recently in general. It doesn’t take a detective to see that. </p>
<p>Yagami points to the window next to his desk, which is cracked, just barely. “Window’s open,” he says. He stubs his cigarette out anyways, because he’s nice like that. Sugiura doesn’t seem to relax, but he does step inside a little more. “Are you okay?”</p>
<p>“Fine,” Sugiura barks immediately. “Why wouldn’t I be?” </p>
<p>Yagami shrugs. “I dunno. You’ve been weird lately. And weirder than normal, I mean. Since you’re a fuckin’ weirdo anyways.” </p>
<p>“You say that like you’re not.” This is true, Yagami has to concede; he is pretty weird himself. He’s got a novel worth of reasons to prove it. </p>
<p>“Is this because you saw me naked?” He’s sort of joking, but he can see from Sugiura’s face that it’s undoubtedly the cause of this odd, awkward behaviour. “Is that why you’re being weird? Why you’ve been turning me down?</p>
<p>Sugiura doesn’t answer. He <em> always </em> has an answer. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Yagami says genuinely, “I should have--”</p>
<p>“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Sugiura rushes out. He’s making his way over to Yagami’s desk, eyes blown wide and cheeks growing red. Yagami stares at him. “Your dick,” he explains. “I can’t stop thinking about your dick now that I’ve seen it.” </p>
<p>Yagami looks down at his lap instinctively. He’s not going to say that he doesn’t get it, because he’s had the suspicion that Sugiura has wanted him for some time now, but he does have to say that there’s nothing <em> special </em> about it. It is, in its essence, just a dick. Maybe a little longer than average, but so is he. It’s not like he’s got some sort of impressive monstercock or something. It’s as long and tan as the rest of him, uncut and even less impressive when it’s soft-- this is what’s making Sugiura act so strange? He supposes his previous thinking wasn’t so far off. Go figure. </p>
<p>“My dick,” Yagami says blankly. Sugiura looks so embarrassed he could die. “The reason you’ve been acting so weird is because you can’t stop thinking about my dick.”</p>
<p>“Don’t say it like that,” Sugiura grits, flustered.</p>
<p>“You said it <em> first</em>.” Yagami opens his mouth to say something else, but Sugiura makes a beeline for the door. </p>
<p>“I should go,” he says, even though he just got here. <em> And crawl into a hole and die </em> is left unsaid, but he might as well have. </p>
<p>“Stop,” Yagami tells him. He makes a move to stand, to come out from behind the desk and lean against the front of it with his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s fine, Sugiura.”</p>
<p>It <em> is </em> fine, actually. Yagami’s sort of surprised that Sugiura didn’t just say this from the get go a few days back instead of being all fumbling and awkward about it, considering Yagami’s nature. Why would he care? He’s gross. Everyone knows this. And it’s not like he hasn’t been obvious in his wanting to jump Sugiura’s bones since he first took his mask off on the rooftop by KJ Art. </p>
<p>“It… is?” Sugiura asks. His hand slips away from the doorknob, and he falls flatfooted where he’d been on his toes. </p>
<p>“Yeah, man, seriously,” Yagami shrugs, “I’m not like, offended or something. Flattered, actually. You didn’t have to avoid me.”</p>
<p>“Isn't it… weird?” Sugiura questions. He steps back into the middle of the room, between the couch and the table. </p>
<p>Yagami shakes his head. “Not really,” he says. </p>
<p>“Friends aren’t supposed to think about each other like that.”</p>
<p>Most friends don’t practice degeneracy like Yagami does either. Besides, Yagami’s slept with most of his friends at least once-- having Sugiura think about his dick really isn’t the strangest thing that’s ever happened to him. Actually pretty mundane.</p>
<p>“Who cares?” He watches Sugiura shift his weight from foot to foot. He’s going to end up jumping out of his skin soon. Yagami pauses for a moment. Then: “Want to suck it?” </p>
<p>Sugiura blanches. “Eh?” he asks, vaguely scandalized. “Your dick? Right now?” </p>
<p>Yagami shrugs again. “Yeah, sure, why not. I’m free. Do you have something better to do?” </p>
<p>“No,” Suguira says immediately. Good to know that in his head there’s nothing better than a mouthful of Yagami. It’s endearing almost, and it makes sense-- oral fixation and all. “Are you serious?”</p>
<p>“I am if you are.” </p>
<p>Suguira nods with utmost sincerity. “Yeah, okay,” he says, clearly hiding his excitement. It’s cute. “Yes. Sure. Please.”</p>
<p>Yagami laughs softly at his enthusiasm, opening his arms. “Come here, then,” he murmurs. “Let me kiss you.” </p>
<p>Suguira’s hands find his abdomen, smoothing over soft muscle and bones, all the while he chews his lip. “I don’t wanna kiss you if you taste like cigarettes,” he explains. Yagami scoffs, but slips away to fish in his desk for the breath strips he’d been handed for free on Pink Street the other day and had tossed in his top drawer without thinking. Who knew they’d come in handy?</p>
<p>“You’re so high maintenance,” he huffs, popping a few of the strips into his mouth. They’re so minty they hurt a little. Maybe he can switch over to menthol cigarettes-- he thinks Mild Seven makes some-- and kill two birds with one stone. </p>
<p>“You say to the guy about to suck your dick for free.” </p>
<p>“<em>You’re </em> the one who wanted to,” Yagami reminds him, coming around to pin Sugiura to the desk. He’s shorter today-- likely not wearing those insoles he insists on sliding into his shoes before he and the other guys go out. (“I’m scarier when I’m taller,” he’d said, scowling at Yagami and Kaito, who looked at him amusedly. “Short or tall you’re still a twink.” “Yeah, and you’ve <em> never </em> been scary, Sugiura. Don’t kid yourself.”) Yagami sticks out his tongue, breathing hot air against Sugiura’s cheeks. “Fresh enough for you, princess?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that’ll do,” he says, and then he’s pulling Yagami down by the back of his neck and they’re kissing. </p>
<p>His mouth is small and soft and his lips part when Yagami coaxes his tongue along the seam of them. Sugiura’s hands find themself back where they’d fallen originally, palms smoothing circles over the flat of Yagami’s stomach, over the two soft lines of muscle there, his sharp hipbones. He makes this sound when Yagami presses him into the scratched lacquered wood, slotting a thigh between his legs, and breathes out into his mouth, “<em>Yagami</em>.”</p>
<p>Yagami kisses him for a moment more before detaching himself-- this isn’t what he’d come for after all, and Yagami gets that. Hardly fair of him to deprive Sugiura of the thing that’s been plaguing his mind for the past few days, right?</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah,” he says, running his fingers over Sugiura’s lips; spit slicked and rosy. “Come on."</p>
<p>He pulls Sugiura by the wrist until they’re next to the couch. He flops onto it, sinking into the leather cushions as he spreads his legs wide to accommodate Sugiura, who wastes little time in sinking to his knees. He’s practically thrumming, buzzing under Yagami’s gaze as he struggles to contain his obvious excitement as he slides his thin hands over Yagami’s thighs. </p>
<p>“You ever do this before?” Yagami asks. He’s not really sure what a normal age to have started having sex is, considering he’d started probably a little too young, but he thinks twenty five is good, right? Who knows-- that big yakuza dude Kaito was telling him about apparently stayed celibate his whole life. Monks do it too. </p>
<p>Sugiura nods. “Once or twice.” </p>
<p>Yagami brushes his hair out of his eyes. “Go ahead, then.” </p>
<p>Sugiura makes for his belt, but he doesn’t pull him out of his underwear once his fly is open, only leaning down to nose at him, to rub his face all over him where he’s still mostly soft in his briefs. Yagami doesn’t comment, but raises an eyebrow as an amused smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. So fucking strange, this kid. Still, the attention is getting him going.</p>
<p>Sugiura only pulls him out of his underwear when he’s half hard, marvelling with wide eyes as his cock is in front of him once again. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, murmuring <em> wow </em> so quietly Yagami can hardly hear it. </p>
<p>“I’m not even fully hard yet,” Yagami says, amused.</p>
<p>“I know,” Sugiura tells him. “Your dick is just… good.” He presses his cheek to Yagami once again. </p>
<p>“Gee, thanks.”</p>
<p>Yagami settles back further into the cushions, stretching his arms over the couch and watches half lidded as Sugiura nuzzles at his bare cock. Distantly, he wishes he were smoking, but Sugiura doesn’t like that. It certainly paints a picture, though. Would make him feel like some big strong boss being worshipped by his little two-bit underling. </p>
<p>Yagami’s brain is suddenly flooded with images of Hamura, of that bulldog of a subordinate that’s always hanging off his arm, Kengo. He shivers involuntarily. None of that for him, thanks. </p>
<p>When Yagami is fully hard, which doesn’t take very long, Sugiura uses his hand to hold his cock upright, to pull back his foreskin to present the flushed head. Yagami has always been a little leaky, but he hasn’t started yet. Probably will soon, though. </p>
<p>He feels slightly awkward at being inspected so thoroughly under Sugiura’s scrutinizing gaze, and wonders how he’ll be rated when this is over, If Sugiura will leave him a nice review under his dick’s yelp page. <em> Great look, very clean. Had a nice curve, but the pubes could use a little trimming. </em> Yeah, yeah, whatever. He forgot when he was showering, sue him. Sugiura doesn’t seem to care about it, though, if the way he’s practically drooling is anything to go off of. </p>
<p>Seemingly out of nowhere, though not that unpredictably, Sugiura holds it down and sniffs it, root to tip, like it’s a fucking cigar. Yagami does have to comment on this, he thinks. It’s just a <em> little </em> too much for him not to. “What the <em> fuck?</em>” he says, though there’s an appreciative humour behind his tone. “You’re so fucking <em> weird."</em></p>
<p>“Sorry,” Sugiura mumurs, but he’s still doing it. Rubbing the head against his cheek and taking long inhales like it’s one of those scented candles he caught him buying that one time. He doesn’t look very sorry at all, but then, it’s fine, isn’t it? Because Yagami is pretty weird too. </p>
<p>“No, no.” Yagami reaches down a hand to pet Sugiura’s hair, fluffy and soft under his fingertips. Sugiura nuzzles into the touch, not unlike a touch-hungry dog being scratched behind the ears. He looks good like this, Yagami decides, being pet while he rubs his face all over Yagami’s dick. “I like it,” he says. </p>
<p>“Oh, good,” Sugiura hums, sharp eyes flicking upwards to meet Yagami’s as he rubs the head over his bottom lip. It makes Yagami squint, makes his mouth twitch. “Because I wasn’t planning on stopping.”</p>
<p>“Who would you be if you were?” </p>
<p>Sugiura doesn’t respond, dipping back down to press gentle little kisses all over the shaft. He pets at Sugiura absentmindedly, encouraging as he drags his parted lips up and down, tongue slipping out every few seconds to offer coltish, featherlight licks. </p>
<p>It’s all very lax, but Yagami doesn’t really mind. He’s not picky anyway, but he’s grown used to not being able to take his time with these sorts of things. Besides, it’s nice. He feels pampered-- it doesn’t even <em> matter </em> that he’s not even been in Sugiura’s mouth yet. The kisses and the kitten licks and the general air of unhurriedness have pinpricks of pleasure bubbling in his stomach. </p>
<p>When he rubs at the spot right under the crown with the tip of his tongue, Yagami tips his head back a little. Sugiura takes just the tip between his lips, suckling gently, almost leisurely. Yagami thinks it’d be nice just to have Sugiura’s mouth around him, offering a few gentle suckles here and there, but not doing much else. An idea springs to mind, and he swallows thickly, looking back down. </p>
<p>“Hey, Sugiura.” The redhead cocks an eyebrow as if to say, <em> hmm? </em> “Have you ever… heard of cockwarming?” </p>
<p>Sugiura perks up a little, eyes bright and interested. “Are you asking me to cockwarm you?”</p>
<p>“It’s just, we have lots of time, and you have an oral fixation--”</p>
<p>“God, please let me. I didn’t want to ask.” He looks eager-- more eager than Yagami has seen him in his life, like with this one suggestion Yagami has fulfilled some kind of dream of his. Probably is, knowing him. </p>
<p>Yagami nods. “Knock yourself out. Just. Don’t <em> actually </em> knock yourself out. Get up to breathe if you need to.”</p>
<p>Sugiura rolls his eyes. “I do still have my nose, you know. Don’t make me regret liking your stupid dick so much.”</p>
<p>He’s eager this time; there's no preamble to him taking Yagami in as far as he can, nose nearly touching the skin at his base. Yagami’s grip tightens in Sugiura’s hair at the unexpected feeling of it, and a winded noise is punched out of him. He lets go after a moment, just resting his hands on his head as his throat flexes around the head of Yagami’s dick. He’s warm, inviting, Yagami feels an urge to buck his hips, but he wills it away, allowing himself to experience something new. </p>
<p>He stares down at Sugiura as he strokes his hair for a while, eyeing the way his eyes are shut blissfully, his cheeks, which despite the rest of him, still hold onto a bit of fat from his childhood, the slow, steady rise and fall of his shoulders as he takes shallow breaths. His long eyelashes cast wispy shadows onto his cheekbones from the warm, orangey late afternoon sun shining through the blinds in thick beams. He’s unbelievably pretty, but he always is. Maybe even prettier now that he's got Yagami in his mouth.</p>
<p>Yagami reaches over to the side of the couch where the paper lays, three days old and half-read, and picks it up, flipping it open. He makes a show of this, like Sugiura’s lips stretching around his base is something easily ignorable, like he doesn’t care. Sugiura likes it; Yagami knows because he’s snaked a hand down to grind his palm in rhythmic presses to where he’s presumably hard in his jeans. It’s hot to think about, as he reads an article about solar electricity, that Sugiura is so wound up just from having the weight of Yagami against his tongue. Yagami can hear the soft rustle, though he can’t see Sugiura around the paper, of the heel of his hand pressing into his crotch, the rub of skin on denim. He’s panting a little through his nose, trying not to make a sound around Yagami. He’s so cute. </p>
<p>After ten or so more minutes, Sugiura pulls off. Yagami folds the paper in half, looking at him. </p>
<p>“Cocksleeves don’t move,” Yagami says, but he can’t even hide the humour in it. Sugiura scowls at him good and hard, so he grins. “You like that shit, don’t lie.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, sure, but could you like, read to me or something?” </p>
<p>“Getting bored?”</p>
<p>Sugiura shakes his head. His lips are puffy and berry red. His eyes are dewy, drying tear tracks on his cheeks. Yagami is overwhelmed with the urge to lick them up, but he pushes it down. “I get antsy when it’s quiet.”</p>
<p>“Reading about solar power is killing my dick,” Yagami says, tossing the paper aside. </p>
<p>“Your dick doesn’t have to stay hard during cockwarming.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, I have an end goal, and as long as it’s not choking you I’d like to keep that end goal,” Yagami tells him, brushing Sugiura’s hair back off his forehead until it’s quaffed. Sugiura’s brows furrow a little; he hates showing off his forehead. Yagami smoothes the creases with his thumb. “Go on back down. I'll talk to you.”</p>
<p>“Please no nasty dirty talk,” Sugiura says, but the flush on his cheeks leads Yagami to believe he’d like it if he spewed word garbage instead of anything meaningful. </p>
<p>“No promises,” he murmurs, nudging his hips up. “Come on.” </p>
<p>Wordlessly, Sugiura takes Yagami back into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut and a pleasant look smoothing over his features. Yagami sighs reverently, combing through his hair. Figures the only time he actually chills the fuck out is when he’s got a dick in him. Yagami thinks he’ll keep him around, maybe, as a permanent fixture to the office. He can drink Yagami’s coffee and yell at him for smoking and suck Yagami off when he’s bored and maybe, just maybe, if he’s feeling particularly like being helpful, he’ll offer a hand in going over evidence and putting forth his insight. It’s an ideal life, Yagami reckons. </p>
<p>If Sugiura wants him to talk, he’ll talk. Yagami, though he’d never admit it, is sort of a narcissistic prick sometimes. He likes hearing his own voice. </p>
<p>“You look pretty like this,” he tells him. His hand slides down to thumb at the corner of Sugiura’s mouth where it gapes. He’d stick his thumb in if he were meaner, stretch his mouth out more, maybe show off those pretty white molars and the way his throat flexes intermittently. “With your lips stretched around me like that. Like you were made for it. Only happy once you’ve got something in your mouth huh?”</p>
<p>Sugiura makes a noncommittal noise. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Yagami concedes. “I see you, always sucking on your hoodie strings and candy and chewing on the cord from your headphones to keep your mouth busy. Kinda surprised you didn’t gravitate towards smoking, honestly. You know that’s a thing? People with oral fixations are more likely to smoke because it stimulates your mouth the right way. You’re the exception, I guess, even though I think you’d look pretty blowing smoke. Of course, though, all that other stuff that wasn’t enough for you, was it? Didn’t stimulate you enough. Left you feeling like you were missing something. You needed something bigger. Something you could go brainless over, that right?” </p>
<p>He doesn’t give Sugiura the chance to make a response. </p>
<p>“Figures only a dick could satisfy you-- makes sense, really. I see the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. I’m a <em> detective </em>, for fuck’s sake, of course I noticed. Don’t know why I didn’t get naked in front of you earlier. God knows I’ve wanted to bend you over since you first got rid of that mask.” Sugiura whines. “Yeah,” Yagami says, “that long. Can’t help it, Sugiura. You’re a pretty twink and I like that shit. I think you’d look good over my desk with your stupid cargo pants around your ankles and your hoodie sleeves covering your hands while you shove them in your mouth to keep quiet. I’d take them away, obviously. I want to hear what you sound like. I’d give you two fingers, though, to keep your mouth occupied, since you’re pretty good and all. Good listener. Good sleeve.” </p>
<p>Sugiura makes another noise around him, eyebrows knit so tight Yagami thinks they might get stuck like that. He whines. Cries. Cute little baby. Yagami wants to kiss him all over, but it’ll have to wait. </p>
<p>“Maybe,” Yagami hums, “I’ll keep you under my desk. You can be my cockwarmer indefinitely. You like that? I’ll get you a mat, okay, so your knees don’t get sore, but I’ll keep you under there every day, nine to five, with my dick in your mouth. You’d sit so still, wouldn’t you? While I did paperwork and answered calls. Would hardly even know you were there, ‘cause you’re a good boy. When the day is done I’ll finish for you, work myself up and let myself go down your throat or all over that pretty face of yours because you’d be so perfect. You’d deserve a reward, wouldn’t you?”</p>
<p>Sugiura is getting a little squirmy, making this little noise over and over from the back of his throat that makes Yagami’s head swim. He wants to keep Sugiura’s face flushed like this forever. </p>
<p>“You think you deserve a reward right now, pretty boy?” he asks, holding either side of his head. </p>
<p>Sugiura’s eyes open and glide slowly up to meet Yagami’s. They’re wet and a little bloodshot but he looks pretty nonetheless. Gorgeous, even. A work of art. Yagami can’t believe he didn’t do this earlier. Sugiura does his best to nod a little, and Yagami’s chest does this thing that makes it feel like he’s just died a little. </p>
<p>“‘Course you do. You’re so good. Asking for what you want instead of beating around the bush. Gonna let me fuck your mouth?”</p>
<p>Sugiura just opens his mouth wider. He’s so good. </p>
<p>Yagami doesn’t last long, all things considered. The thoughts he’d had running rampant through his little perverted mind of keeping Sugiura in the office like some kind of pet had him closer than he’d like to admit, even if it is wildly unrealistic. And a little objectifying. Whatever. Degeneracy and all that. He tries to pull out right before, but Sugiura fights against him, letting him spill down his throat. Maybe he’s a degenerate too. </p>
<p>“Good, good,” Yagami is babbling, petting Sugiura everywhere he can reach. He pulls Sugiura off by the sides of his head, wiping the drool from the sides of his mouth as he swallows again, looking very small. “Good boy. God, Sugiura, come here.”</p>
<p>Sugiura tastes like cum and Yagami likes that shit. His mouth is slippery and he lets it fall open when Yagami tries to shove his tongue inside. He nurses it a little, like he had Yagami’s cock. Figuring he should probably return the favour, Yagami reaches down to press his hand to the front of Sugiura’s jeans. Sugiura makes this sound, high and sensitive, almost like--</p>
<p>Yagami pulls back, eyebrow raised. Sugiura looks away. </p>
<p>“I told you,” he says, flustered. His voice is shot, gravelly and rough and licking up Yagami’s spine. <em> He </em> did that. “I really like your dick.” </p>
<p>“Oh my god,” Yagami says, pulling Sugiura down so he can hug him, sort of. Squish Sugiura against his shoulder in some sort of semblance of a comforting gesture, more like. “Oh my <em> god</em>. You came just from sucking my dick.”</p>
<p>“<em>Stop</em>,” Sugiura grits, embarrassed. “I palmed myself too, it’s just. <em> God </em> leave me alone, you asshole.” </p>
<p>“Sorry,” Yagami laughs. He can feel Sugiura glaring even with his face smushed against Yagami’s bony shoulder. “<em>Sorry</em>. That’s actually really hot. You know, maybe I will keep you around.”</p>
<p>“Don’t even start with your shitty porn dirty talk,” Sugiura groans. </p>
<p>“It got you off,” Yagami says. It got him off too. He’s got the wet dick to prove it. “Don’t pretend like you don’t like the thought of keeping my dick wet.”</p>
<p>“I like <em> you</em>, you piece of shit,” he says. Yagami’s mouth snaps shut. Sugiura huffs. “Don’t clam up. I know you don’t do monogamy. It’s fine. Just like, bone me every once in a while and I’ll be good.”</p>
<p>“You sure?” </p>
<p>Sugiura nods, pulling back to look at him. He looks a little more put together, even if there’s spit dried all cakey on the side of his mouth. “I’m not good at relationships either, so it’s chill, you know.”</p>
<p>Yagami reaches up to fix his hair a little where his hands have mussed it up. It’s an oddly sweet gesture for him, but he doesn’t dwell on it. “I can do that,” he says, grinning. “I love a good twink, so.” Sugiura rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling a little, too. “Oh! I have some underwear you can borrow, if you want. You know. So you’re not chilling in those cummy ones.” </p>
<p>“Ew,” Sugiura says. “Don’t call them cummy.”</p>
<p>“You’re the one who came in them.”</p>
<p>Sugiura chews his lip. “Do you want to… go get food or something? I feel bad for blowing you off all those times.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Yagami says. “Let’s go.”</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
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